


When I'm Gone

by thecolorofstars



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Pre-Sburb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecolorofstars/pseuds/thecolorofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider knew from day one that Dave was his to raise. Right from the start, Dave's childhood was full of harsh training to develop the skills that Dirk knew he'd need. His entire life, as sad as it is, is leading up to that one game. Yeah, it's a straight fact that Dave will grow up to save the world. Dirk just never took into consideration that the kid would still have to grow up first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This one grabbed me by surprise in the wee hours of the morning, so it's a little shorter than usual and the flow might be a bit off. Still, I have no apologies. As always, Nadiya was my beta.
> 
> Based on When I'm Gone by Eminem  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iBfVk_Mv1Y

The door slams shut, lock snapping easily into place for numb fingers. Keys clatter against the counter. Dirk lifts his wrist and hits the light button. It’s already four in the morning, which is far later than he’d like to be out on a weeknight, but his job doesn’t allow for an early quitting time. If they want to stay until three, he’s their slave. A small sigh of annoyance slips out of him, but the bags below his eyes are far dark to make protesting worthwhile. His steps are heavy as he wanders through the familiar apartment. In the light of day he’ll barely recognize it, but in the shadow of the television it looks like home.

So does the kid on the futon.

Dirk pauses, watching as a pile of blankets groans and shifts for a moment before twisting to look in his direction. The younger boy struggles to sit up, blinking in the flickering light. His eyes are uncovered and his hair, which is usually so well-kept, is in a state of disarray. Dirk isn’t sure how to react to facing his brother so suddenly.

It’s been a week since he’s seen Dave.

It isn’t that he means to be an uncaring guardian, he just gets busy. Because his job requires him to work nights, he sleeps during the day. Usually, Dave’s hiding in his room when Dirk wakes up to get ready. When he comes home, it’s far too late for the teenager to be anywhere but bed. After all, he does have grades to keep up. This night is a rare exception. Rare enough, in fact, that Dirk is already trying to puzzle it out. He doesn’t get the chance.

“I wanted to find out when you’d actually show up,” Dave grumbles. “I’ll be out of your way in a sec.”

It takes until Dave is standing in front of him, eyes covered and blankets in hand, for Dirk to process what he said. For the first time in what must have been a month, he puts a hand on Dave. Just a single calloused hand on his shoulder, but Dave still flinches.

“What do you want me to do?” Dirk asks, voice scratched with exhaustion. “I’ve got a job and I have to do it.”

“You can tell ‘em that you’ve got shit to do,” he snaps, pulling away.

All his brother can do is stare. Where the hell did this little kid get a mouth like that? Probably from listening to said brother talk too much, but it isn’t like he’d know either way. Dave’s glasses are off again. The heels of his hands are pressed to his eyes. When he finally removes them, Dirk isn’t sure whether he’s more concerned about the dark rings or the tears.

“Dave, I’ve got to work,” he tries again, but the argument is weak and stale.

Dave just looks up at him, eyes raw and wet. It’s the same bullshit he’s been told since he was old enough not to accidentally set the apartment on fire. Back then, he only asked the tactless questions of a little kid and Dirk managed to brush the guilt off by playing around with him for just long enough to make him giggle. Sure, Dave would still be upset when the door swung closed, but the empty promises kept him pacified. Time has changed things. The air is heavy in Dirk’s chest and it sticks in his throat.

“I’ll work out some time off soon,” he assures his little brother, trying to make his way to his room for once instead passing out on the worn futon.

Dave’s already standing in the hallway, blocking his path with a shaking expression, a poker face that is ready to break. He doesn’t believe anything he hears from Dirk anymore, not after being lied to time and time again.

“Dave, I’m tired,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses. “Just move, okay?”

“You don’t even give a fuck, do you?” he asks, ignoring his brother’s groan of annoyance. “It isn’t like you asked to raise some kid straight out of high school, right?”

“Dave, we aren’t going to discuss this right now,” Dirk mutters, trying to push him to the side.

“We aren’t even actually brothers,” Dave continues, blocking him again. “You just found me and decided you had to raise me for some dumb reason.”

Now he’s standing with his arms spread, holding Dirk back so he’ll finally have to at least hear him. His voice is steadily rising, surely waking the people in the surrounding apartments, but he isn’t giving his “guardian” a moment to quiet him down.

“Why the hell would you bother with this? All you do is beat the shit out of me, trying to teach me how to defend myself or something, and then disappear again. Why? What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” he yells, voice cracking as he gets louder and louder. “All I want to do is be fucking normal for once! John doesn’t have a mom or anything, but he still gets to come home to his dad fucking _doing_ shit. At least he knows that there’s going to be food in the fridge tomorrow morning. You don’t even know what we’ve got in there anymore!”

Dave pauses for a breath, wiping at his eyes. Tears begin to well up the moment his hand leaves. The blood vessels are clearly pronounced in the whites of his eyes, which are already reddened from the late hours. He clearly wasn’t planning on being done screaming and sobbing, but slowly the awareness of his situation crawls back to him and he clamps his mouth shut. When he finally finds words again, there’s a shake that wasn’t there before.

“I called CPS,” he confesses, adjusting his pile.

“You did what?” Dirk hisses.

“They’ll be here at some point in the next twelve hours.”

With that, Dave finds himself too exhausted to continue arguing. He floats silently down the hallway, a ghost in the faint traces of television light coming from the living room. There’s only a faint click as the door closes.

By morning, the exhausted guardian stands in a clean apartment assuring the nice man that the swords are only for his martial arts training. It takes some maneuvering, lots of explaining, and absolutely no sleep, but they end up leaving Dave where he is. It's hard to tell exactly how Dave feels about this. Life is back to normal in every way only a week later. They only have a year before it all stops mattering anyway.

It’s been six years since Bro watched Dave fight someone else, back before he was pulled out of normal martial arts classes. Now he finds himself next to his brother, or at least a shockingly orange bird ghost version of him, and against a demon that he wanted to keep trapped within the walls of his nightmares. They fight as they learned, viciously and without remorse. When the beast finally disappears, the feeling is already fading from everywhere that isn’t the searing patch around the sword. At this point, Dirk can’t bring himself to care. Dave, because this bird brother still is and always will be Dave, is sobbing against him with his sunglasses off and his tears further wetting the blood-stained polo.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out before launching into a rough fit of gasping.

“You did great, lil’ man,” Dirk assures him. “I know you can beat this.”

“I understand now,” Dave mumbles into his brother’s wounded chest.

And that’s all that matters.


End file.
